


catching up

by artsypolarbear



Series: Clexa Oneshots [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Soulmates, clarke dies too but she's reborn too so it's ok, lexa dies but she's reborn so it's ok, they end up happy everything is fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 10:08:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6850426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artsypolarbear/pseuds/artsypolarbear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which Clarke and Lexa meet one another in different universes, ones in which only one of them knows the other from a past life. Clarke meets Alicia, but Alicia doesn't know Clarke. Lexa meets Clarke, remembers her from when she was Alicia and Clarke was Elyza, but Clarke hasn't yet met Alicia. they get two failed shots at a happy ending before they succeed on their third try.</p><p>or the messy angsty clexa&lexarke reincarnation story you didn't know you needed</p>
            </blockquote>





	catching up

**Author's Note:**

> TW: blood, torture  
> so i'm doing a new twist on reincarnation, it's a little messy but it's great and there's a happy ending, i promise

Clarke breaks down again when she’s scrubbing Lexa’s blood off of her hands. The water’s dark black, she scrubs with the little brush until her skin is raw and bleeding, and then she just throws the metallic bowl to the wall and cries out – she’s angry, she’s in pain, she’s never felt pain like this, not to this extent, she feels as though she can't breathe and she thinks she may just die from the pain.

It’s like her heart’s gone entirely, torn out of her chest, she feels as though there’s nothing left but shreds of flesh and blood, nothing else.

Lexa's gone, and there’s nothing else left.

Clarke can’t even think about her without gasping for air – she collapses once again to the hard floor, it collides with her knees so harshly she cries out both in physical and emotional pain. But she doesn’t pay mind to the bleeding cut on her knee, no – she curls up and sobs some more, she’s fighting herself now, she has to fight, she has to regain herself.

She can’t stay in Polis. She knows this, she knows she has to leave, but she can’t bring herself to do so. She can't even bring herself to get up from the floor. She's rocking back and forth, crying, trying to forget, trying to stop, but she simply cannot.

It takes her a while, but finally, she's cried out all her tears. Her eyes are raw, her voice is gone, she is weak and can barely think. She's empty inside, but on the outside, she manages to get herself to look reasonably presentable. On the outside, the extent of her pain isn't visible.

When Murphy and Octavia finally enter the room, they find her sitting on the bed, hands clasped and holding something – they can’t see what, only Murphy could even guess what it could be, but they don’t know.

_Nobody knows._

Clarke clutches the braid, _her_ braid, in her hand when Octavia takes her by the arm and half drags her out of the room. She isn’t fully aware of anything, not of Titus’s speech and explanations of the chip, something about Lexa being in it – once again, her chest aches with so much pain she can barely breathe, but she stomachs it and keeps it inside.

It wrecks her, but she does it because she has a burden to bear and she cannot afford to collapse now.

She keeps the chip safe, takes better care of that tiny little thing than her own self – she goes days without eating, refusing to sleep, and lets no one near, but the chip she always ensures is safe, tucked near her heart, kept there to remind her of Lexa.

The braid she’s put in the little box with the chip.

Some nights, she doesn’t cry.

Most nights, she does, clutching the box in her hands and shedding bitter tears of pure loneliness. She’s alone, she’s never realized how alone she was until now, and it pains her so much she doesn’t know what to do. In those moments, during the dark hours of the night when she lays alone in her bed or her cot or in her corner of the camp, she feels useless and helpless – she feels like a child, she feels abandoned and small, she feels as though she’s been cast into a role she was never meant to survive in the first place.

There’s war and there’s pain, time passes amidst fighting and death, and her burden doesn’t get any easier. No one understands – how could they, when in their minds Lexa was a savage ruler, none of them truly knew who the woman Clarke loved was.

Clarke doesn’t tell them the truth. They’d only judge her for it, and she has no desire to taint Lexa’s memory with fighting and harsh words.

She doesn’t try to find a new love. The one time she attempts to allow someone in her bed, her heart aches so much she’s forced to leave – she cannot, it stirs up memories which she wishes to suppress and keep pure, and so she lives her life alone.

Most of her friends are either dead or no longer her friends. Her people have abandoned her, outcast her, she spends all her time trying to save them but none of them realize it – only a handful do, and even those few do not truly understand her pain.

Raven tries, but she has her own pain to manage. Octavia does too, but she can never truly understand. She has her own prejudices which prevent her from seeing the truth. Clarke doesn’t judge her for it. She’s too tired to fight.

When Raven finds the key to destroying ALIE and saving the Arkers from her spell, an argument stirs amidst the small group of the remaining deliquents. By destroying ALIE, any of those who are under her influence would die immediately.

Clarke’s mother is under her influence. Of course she doesn’t want her to die.

Raven finds a solution for that, too, and that is the cause of the argument. Her solution involves a code and an local implementation of the program, and she claims it’d be too risky to go to Polis to implement the program as well. Polis doesn’t have a technical network like the Ark does.

In short, she says that she could save the Arkers, but saving the Grounders would be near impossible.

Clarke says they should try nevertheless.

Everyone else goes against her, and thus, an argument stirs up. They still regard her as a leader, but none of them respect Grounders, not like Clarke does.

In the end, Clarke is almost reduced to tears, and she runs out of their hideout before she breaks down before them.

That’s when they get her, ALIE's minions, the forces they've been fleeing from for months. Arms grab her, strong arms, she can’t fight, can’t even scream before a hand is clamped over her mouth and a knife pressed to her throat.

She’s knocked out before she can truly fight. She gets in one scream before her head is slammed against a tree, knocking her out in a flash of blinding pain.

She wakes up in a cave, it’s wet and cold and everything hurts, and she quickly realizes she’s the only one there. Her friends are safe, and Clarke is relieved.

She’s even more relieved when she realizes she doesn’t have the box which contains the chip. She left it, she’d hidden it under her pillow as she changed her clothes, but had gotten distracted midway and forgotten it for a brief second.

At least her captors don’t have it.

They don’t have _her._

Clarke doesn’t care for herself. She hasn’t really cared for her own fate for a long time.

Her captors take her to Polis, and she is confronted by ALIE.

She is restrained and tortured, she cries in pain, but no amount of whips or blades can inflict any pain even close to the pain which she has grown to live with.

“Where is the chip?”

“What is the pass phrase?”

Clarke doesn’t answer any of the questions. She doesn’t say a thing.

She pretends she’s in less pain than she is.

One day, her tormentor – her own mother, of all people – fails. She goes too far.

Clarke feels it. The pain is more than she’s ever felt, beyond the limit she's always known of but never passed. It's beyond the limit that no one can pass without suffering the inevitable consequence.

She’s screaming and crying, but there’s a relief that sets into her body as she realizes she’s dying and that there isn’t anything anyone there can do to stop it.

As her vision blurs and the blood drains from her body, she sees the people in the room collapse.

She’s barely awake when she feels hands – her mother’s hands – on her face, gentle where not a moment ago they were harsh.

“Clarke?”

She’s back, Clarke realizes, but it’s too late for her.

She slips away, but when she does, she breathes one last thing.

“It’s okay, Mom. I’m safe.”

She closes her eyes, she hears a pained, choked cry, but it’s too late. The pain is so great, she’s slipping, she feels it, and in that moment in between living and dead, Clarke wonders if this was what Lexa felt too.

When the darkness sets in, it’s like falling asleep.

The pain stops, and she’s dead.

Her body is taken down, her mother is in pain, she did this, she cannot even begin to comprehend that _she_ did this to her own daughter, she’s cradling Clarke’s body, covered in her blood, shaking and trembling and broken in so many ways it’s a miracle she’s even alive. She’s furious and destroyed, her heart is in half, but her daughter is dead and there is little that she can do.

She sees how at peace her daughter looks, and cries.

A while later, the remaining deliquents enter Polis.

They’d done it after all, saved the Grounders and the Arkers alike, and somehow, the people know.

A time of peace ensues, but Clarke isn’t there to see it.

It is remembered as much of her legacy as it is Lexa’s.

She’s cremated, and her ashes are scattered in a place that, unbeknownst to anyone, is the same place Lexa’s ashes were scattered upon years before.

 

* * *

 

Clarke wakes, and has no idea where she is.

Her mind is a mess, she’s not sure what’s going on, she thought she’d died – her hand automatically darts to her side, to where the gash had been, but there’s only fresh skin and a scar, faded and old.

Bare skin at that.

Clarke darts up into a sitting position when she realizes she’s entirely naked, laying on a bed, in some house she does not recognize.

“What the-?”

She springs to her feet, so quickly the world spins for a while, and she has to steady herself against the back of a chair. Her mind is a literal mess, there’s her own memories and new ones, except they’re not new but old, like her own – she has two identities now, one is being forced into her, overlapping with her own and causing confusion.

She’s Elyza Lex now, and her last name causes a little sting of pain in her heart.

She finds clothes placed on the chair next to her bed, neatly so – the way they’re folded are exactly how she folds them, sloppy and with the sleeves of the shirt folded in a special way.

She has a memory now, of herself folding those clothes and putting them on the chair, and she’s even more confused.

As days pass, she settles into her new life. She’s lived this, she’s lived the life of Elyza just as much as she’s lived the life of Clarke, and by the time a month has passed, she’s comfortable in this new life.

She has a motorbike and she’s driving around, pillaging houses and destroying walkers. She helps people wherever she can, but she never stays anywhere more than a night.

She still doesn’t take companions. The few that have offered to join her, she’s turned down.

She lives a life of solitude and freedom, lacking any burdens or responsibilities except to herself, and she’s happy. She’s not whole, but she’s happy.

Clarke’s world comes crashing down one Sunday morning – or she thinks it’s Sunday, she isn’t so sure, but she’s decided it is – when she’s out looking for something to eat.

She’s in some beachside town, it’s empty and void of any people, and she thinks she won’t run into anyone. It’s in the middle of nowhere, there are walkers everywhere – only an idiot or someone who’s suicidal would come there.

Clarke is neither an idiot or suicidal. She’s just there for the thrill and the solitude.

But then, the sunny morning’s silence is pierced by a scream, and she drops everything and runs.

Walkers don’t scream. Only living people do.

Clarke runs towards the scream, and then she bursts into a group of walkers. Amidst them is someone, a girl, she can’t quite see her, but she’s clearly struggling to stay alive.

“Get down!” Clarke yells.

The girl does as told. The walkers, of course, don’t.

Clarke shoots half of them and hits the rest over the head with a golf club that she’s grabbed from the last town, finding it very effective in knocking the brain matter out of walkers’ skulls.

The girl is on the ground, she’s clutching her arm, and for a moment, Clarke doesn’t see her face.

But then she notices the hair, and the body, and by the time the girl finally turns her face and looks at Clarke, she already knows who it is.

It’s Lexa.

“Thanks,” the girl – Lexa, it has to be Lexa – mutters as she stands up. She winces when she does, and Clarke sees her shoulder is dislocated.

She’d laugh at the parallel of events were it not for the fact that she’s staring at Lexa, alive and well, after so many of years of her being gone. There are tears in her eyes, she doesn’t know what to say, can’t speak – she’s just staring, dumbfounded, and the girl quickly grows irritated.

“Are you mute or something?”

Clarke shakes her head. “No, uh- no.”

“Thanks for saving my life.”

“No problem,” Clarke stammers. “Are you hurt?”

The girl looks at Clarke, her green eyes study her, and Clarke doesn’t dare even move. “Who are you?

Clarke isn’t surprised that she doesn’t know her.

Nevertheless, it hurts like hell when she realizes this girl has no idea who she is.

“I’m Elyza,” Clarke says. “Elyza Lex.”

“Alicia Clark,” the girl replies.

Clarke almost snorts when she hears Alicia’s last name, but manages to keep it down.

“Your shoulder’s hurt,” Clarke says then. “I could help.”

“I’m fine.”

“It’s dislocated.”

The girl frowns – Clarke freezes again, she’s seen Lexa frown so many times, and it’s so uncannily similar she doesn’t know what to do.

Alicia does in the end let Clarke fix her shoulder, and then, Clarke invites her to join her. She’s alone, and hurt, and needs help.

The brunette grumbles when Clarke says the last part, but agrees, much to her astonishment.

When they get on the motorbike, and Alicia wraps her good arm around Clarke’s waist, she almost cries again. But she doesn’t, she only sheds a tear before biting her lip so hard it almost bleeds to stop herself. Alicia doesn’t see.

Each morning when Alicia gets on the bike behind Clarke, Clarke’s heart leaps. Each evening when they get off and Alicia moves away, Clarke’s heart aches in pain. She wants more, she wants nothing more than for Alicia to remember her, to come closer, but she dare not push her luck – she fears that if she screws up, Alicia will leave, and she’ll lose her forever.

She doesn’t ask Alicia about her family. Alicia doesn’t ask her about hers.

Weeks pass, and they grow closer. Alicia saves Clarke’s life, and Clarke saves hers. They drive from town to town, and though Alicia never admits it, Clarke notices that she’s always paying extra attention to every face they see, be it walker or a human.

A month from their first meeting, Alicia drinks half a bottle of vodka and cries.

Clarke sits next to her and lets her lean on her shoulder, offers her tissues and strokes her hair.

Alicia sniffles, takes another swig of vodka, and starts talking about her family.

She talks how she watched her brother be pushed off a boat, how she couldn’t help him in any way. How she watched her loved ones succumb to the virus, how she lost the remaining bits of her family in a storm that tore their ship in half – she cries, and Clarke comforts her.

“I had to leave my mother,” she murmurs as Alicia continues sobbing, “And my friends. It hurt.”

Alicia takes a deep breath. “Why’d you leave?”

Clarke doesn’t dare look at her. She fears that if she sees those green eyes full of tears, she’ll break down herself.

“I just had to,” she mutters.

Alicia falls asleep soon after, tears sparkling on her eyelashes, and Clarke reaches over to gently wipe them away. Alicia’s clinging to her arm, so tightly Clarke can't get away, and so she settles them more comfortably, and falls asleep as well.

Two days later, Alicia crawls over to where Clarke’s set up her sleeping bag. It’s the middle of the night, they’re safe in a small cabin, locked and walker-tight, and Clarke’s confused as to why she’s awake.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she mutters. “Can I sleep here?”

Clarke stares at her for a little while, then nods. Alicia settles down next to Clarke and falls asleep.

The next night, Alicia asks to sleep next to her again.

By the fourth night, she doesn’t ask. She just sets up her sleeping bag next to Clarke, so close they’re almost touching, and falls asleep quickly, leaving Clarke there to lay in the dark, trying to not notice her scent lingering nearby, trying her best to not think about how close she is.

One morning, Clarke wakes to Alicia’s arm around her waist and Alicia’s face pressed into the back of her neck. She feels warm and cozy, and the yearning for it to be an everyday occurrence is so great Clarke trembles a little.

She doesn’t move until Alicia wakes up, suddenly embarrassed when she realizes what’s happened.

She sits up, as does Clarke, and they don’t talk about it after that.

That night, Alicia sleeps on the other side of the room.

Or, well, tries to.

Clarke is awake too, and can hear her tossing and turning, until she finally gives in and comes back over. Alicia lays on the floor beside her, tries to sleep, but after a while, she taps Clarke's shoulder gently and asks, quietly as ever:

“Can you cuddle me?”

Clarke’s suddenly wide awake, she’s staring at the brunette laying on the floor beside her, and her heart’s beating so fast she fears she’ll have a heart attack. She turns to her side and moves her arms, makes space for Alicia to settle in front of her, and when she finally wraps her arm around Alicia’s waist, she can’t help but smile.

She sleeps, and feels like she’s finally found peace.

The next morning, Alicia turns in Clarke’s arms and smiles her a good morning.

“You’re cute,” she says when Clarke yawns.

And then, suddenly, her lips touch Clarke’s – it’s early morning, Clarke’s only barely awake, but Alicia – Lexa – is kissing her and she almost dies on the spot.

But she doesn’t, no – her body goes into autopilot, she kisses Alicia back and trembles with the sheer force of the relief and joy that washes over her when the familiar taste of her love returns to her mouth.

She cries a little, and Alicia laughs – she doesn’t understand why, she thinks Clarke’s just a softie, and Clarke doesn’t know what to say.

Weeks pass, and they’re happy. Clarke has Alicia now, Alicia is different but she _knows_ it’s Lexa, and she’s happy.

Months pass, and Clarke is comfortable enough with Alicia to tell her about her past life. Alicia laughs it off first, thinks it’s a joke – but Clarke is serious.

She tells Alicia about Lexa, about who she used to be, and Alicia slowly begins to believe her. She doesn’t understand why she doesn’t remember, but doesn’t question it – she can tell that Clarke, or Elyza, is speaking the truth.

Clarke feels as though a weight is raised from her chest when she finally tells Alicia. She feels free again, and for a long while, all is well.

But it’s a world full of pain and death like the old one, and so things go awry.

They're in a swarm of walkers, stuck and unable to get through, when a government swat-team moves in to destroy them. The walkers are too close to a quarantined area, and there's an order to destroy them.

They can't see that Alicia and Elyza are amidst the swarm.

A nano-bomb is thrown into the swarm, and it strikes Clarke so hard she's propelled a few dozen feet before she lands, her body broken and dying. Alicia is hurt too, she crawls over, she's crying and bloody, as is Clarke.

Clarke hates that she dies before Alicia does. She's in so much pain, but all she can do is cup Alicia's face and kiss her, and whisper reassurances to her as she bleeds out.

"You'll be okay," she mumbles, blood trickling from her mouth. "You'll be okay."

Alicia cries when Clarke finally dies. She lays her head on Elyza's, or Clarke's, to her she's Elyza but she's also Clarke, this girl she's never met - she lays her head on the blonde's chest and cries, and falls asleep, and in her sleep, she slips away too. She dies in less pain than Clarke did, peacefully almost, tears still on her cheeks when her heart beats for the last time.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Alicia wakes up in shock, she thinks she's still there, she thinks Elyza's still there, but she isn't. She thinks she's still dying.

But she isn’t.

She’s in a bed, clad in a soft shirt and surrounded by furs and animal skins. The air smells different, everything feels different.

There are candles strewn across the room she’s in, and she’s confused.

She lies back and thinks. Her mind is a mess, there’s two identities at play.

She’s Alicia Clark.

But she’s also Lexa, the Commander, _Heda –_ she speaks two languages, her body is different, it’s hard and rough and there are muscles where Alicia only had soft skin. Her palms are calloused and rough, but her long slender fingers are still soft.

She lays in bed for a while, wondering what had happened.

Reincarnation, she decides. She’s in a new body, a new life, with new skills and a new duty.

_Elyza was right after all._

Her name, Lexa, suits her. It feels more natural than Alicia ever did, and in an instant, Alicia accepts it.

She’s Lexa.

When she realizes she's alone, that Elyza's not there, she cries. She knows Lexa isn't one to be heard crying, she knows she's not supposed to show weakness, and so she cries into her pillow, muffles her sobs, and tries to silence her whimpers.

She's alone, and, with time, she accepts it.

Years pass, and she lives up to her title. She wins battles and grows stronger, her Coalition grows strong and great, and she is revered.

She sometimes wonders about Elyza, or Clarke, as she used to be called. But there are no Skaikru, no Ark.

But then people fall from the sky, and everything changes.

The people are soon dubbed Skaikru by her people, and Lexa is curious of them. She’s heard of them from Elyza, though she never went into full detail, but she knows that Clarke, Elyza, is part of them. She is considering negotiations when a village is burned down by their ammunition.

An act of war cannot be ignored.

_Jus drein jus daun._

She acts accordingly, she knows nothing of the Skaikru other than that they fell from the sky and that they’ve burned down a village. She’s heard they’re nothing but children, that her love may be amongst them, but she cannot let that sway her decisions – an entire village is gone, thanks to their attack, and she is Heda. She must protect her people.

More fall from the sky, and Lexa threatens them with destruction lest they leave her lands.

The Skaikru do not take up this offer. Instead there’s talk of a deal, an offer, and Lexa allows a visit, half amused at what will come.

When she hears that the leader’s name is Clarke, she freezes for a second. She hasn’t forgotten her past life, she has never truly sought out Clarke but has always hoped she’d one day cross paths with her.

And now, knowing that Clarke is to walk through the entrance to her tent, she finds herself nervous. To distract herself, she begins playing with her dagger, trying to pass herself off as cool and collected despite the bundle of nerves in the pit of her stomach.

She catches a glimpse of blonde hair when Clarke steps through into the tent, and her heart stops.

It’s Elyza, Lexa’s sure it is, only she looks rougher and yet somehow…younger.

She can only half pay notion to what Clarke’s saying because she’s fighting the urge to get closer to her. She cannot afford to show weakness, not now, she is Heda and it is not appropriate.

Lexa soon realizes that Clarke doesn’t remember her.

And then, she is confronted with first-hand experience of what Elyza, or Clarke, must’ve felt. She is in pain, she wants nothing more than to hold Clarke close and to protect her, to have her there and keep her – but she can’t. Clarke is on the opposite side of a war, and things are way more complicated. They grow closer, though not as close as Lexa would like, and for a brief moment, there’s hope.

Clarke has a love, but he perishes due to his crimes. Lexa hates that she has to hurt her, but she has no other choice.

Seeing Clarke cry makes her heart ache, but she stands firm and does nothing to stop it. She cannot – her hands are tied. She’s sure that this is where she loses Clarke, but, against all odds, it isn’t.

They grow closer, though not as close as Lexa would like, and for a brief moment, there’s hope.

She kisses her, and for those few seconds, she feels at home again.

But then Clarke draws away, and Lexa is left there to try and pick up the pieces of her heart and her mind, furiously trying to regain her composure despite the fact that Clarke is all she can truly think about.

Her hope is snatched away, torn from her, in an instant amidst the battle at mount Weather.

She has to choose her people. She is Heda, above all else, and she has a duty beyond just herself.

Though it tears her heart and soul in half, she turns her back to Clarke and leaves.

She prays Clarke won’t die, and half prays she will, so that she may forever carry that guilt in her heart and force herself to suffer for it.

But Clarke doesn’t die.

She brings the Mountain to it’s knees and does what Lexa failed to do.

Lexa is in awe, but not entirely surprised. She’s seen the potential in Clarke, she can remember what Elyza was like, and so she is glad that Clarke is alright.

She forces herself to believe there is no hope for reconciliation, she’s sure Clarke could never forgive her. She doesn’t seek her out.

Lexa remains in Polis, and continues her duties as Heda.

When she hears that Clarke is being hunted, she decides to help her.

She has no hope that it’ll help Clarke forgive her. She believes in all her heart that Clarke will never forgive her, but she wants her to be safe and alive.

When she sees Clarke, bound and gagged, forced to her knees in her throne room, she wants nothing more than to strike her captor in the face – she had asked for her to be brought unharmed, and yet she is ragged, bruised, and cut up.

She lets a flash of anger slip, and regrets it. She's supposed to be stoic, but seeing Clarke in any way of hurt gets the best of her.

When Clarke spits in her face and tells her she’ll never help her, Lexa accepts it. It hurts, but she does not raise a hand against Clarke.

She could never do that to Clarke.

She isn’t surprised when Clarke tries to kill her, but she is surprised when she doesn’t follow through.

She half wishes Clarke would’ve done it. She feels so guilty for hurting her, for breaking her like so, that she’d gladly have Clarke slice her throat open and leave her to die.

She is forced to make Clarke kneel before her at the summit, and hates every second of it. She wishes she could have some other occasion where Clarke’s dressed up like so, looking breath-taking and beautiful – but her hands are tied, fortune is not on her side, and so she takes what she can get.

When she kneels before Clarke later that night and swears her loyalty, she speaks directly from her heart.

Clarke extends her hand, and hope returns to Lexa.

What then follows are slight smiles and hints at reconciliation, all that lead up to the moment before Clarke leaves.

Lexa expects nothing from Clarke, she dares not hope – but Clarke takes her hand again, smiles, and then, she kisses her.

They kiss, and Lexa can’t help the tear that she sheds, or the quiver of her lip, or the sheer overwhelming sensation that makes her feel as though she can’t stand. Clarke is there, she tastes so familiar, she is familiar, she’s home – she’s holding her, kissing her, leading her to the bed, and Lexa's head is spinning so fast she isn't sure where she is or what is happening, all she knows is that Clarke is there and that Clarke is all that matters.

In that moment where she sits on the edge of the bed, hands in Clarke’s own, she looks up and thinks she could never see a more beautiful sight.

Clarke is smiling, and Lexa cannot believe any of it is happening as she’s laid down on her back and Clarke climbs over her. She can recall so many times she’s done this with Elyza, but there’s something even more enticing about Clarke, about the fact that she's waited for so long, the fact that she thought it could've ever happened makes the moment that much more intense and overwhelming. Clarke is gentle and yet confident, and Lexa surrenders herself, allows her feelings to take over, and for that brief moment, they’re happy.

But, once again, they cannot remain so forever.

Not an hour after the happiest moment of Lexa’s life, she hears gunshots.

She rushes to Clarke’s room, and in doing so, she’s shot.

There's pain, she's shocked, she looks to Clarke and sees her pale face - and she realizes she's hurt way worse than what she can handle.

She falls to the ground, she knows she’s dying.

It’s then that she realizes that Clarke will go on to meet Alicia, that she’s known Elyza and Clarke while they were dealing with her death. It’s then that she understands why Elyza looked like she was about to cry when she first met her, why she sometimes heard her crying alone at night – she never connected the dots, not until then, and she scrambles to say something that’ll comfort her.

She reassures Clarke that she’ll be safe, she ensures it, makes a promise. She doesn’t care for her own death, she isn’t afraid.

She cares more for Clarke than the fact that she is rapidly bleeding out.

She closes her eyes, and she’s almost dead when she feels Clarke’s lips against her own.

Unbeknownst to Clarke, her kiss captures the very last breath from Lexa’s lips.

Lexa dies knowing she was loved, her heart full of worry for Clarke.

She slips away, passes on, and prays Clarke will be alright.

 

* * *

 

The new world is strange. It’s calm, there is no war, and everything is easy.

The people are at peace, there is no conflict, no famine, no fighting – there is plenty of everything, everything good, and everything is alright.

Lexa wakes in a forest, with trees so tall they must be thousands of years old, with flowery meadows amidst their huge trunks. Houses are strung up amidst the trees, hanging from the branches, not a single nail or house is attached to the trees themselves – the people who live there respect the trees, they live together with them, they dare not hurt them.

Streams full of icy clear water run through the woods, and Lexa wades across them, catching sight of children playing with boats in the shallower parts. Their laughter resembles the bubbling of the streams of the creeks, a lively sound that echoes through the ancient woods, a sound that makes everything feel that much more alive. Deer and foxes, and all sorts of animals, jump around in the woods, cross Lexa's path and look at her curiously. Some children play with tame deer and squirrels and foxes, they make them flower wreaths and hang them from the antlers of a stag, laugh when it shakes it's head gently as though to rid itself of it  - but it looks to Lexa as though the stag is only playing, and she smiles gently at the sight before continuing on her way.

She’s wearing clothes made from the softest material, pale green in color, a long flowy shirt, embroidered with flowers and vines and patterns so intricate it must've taken years to make, and some pants made from some other soft fabric that she doesn't recognize. Her hair she braids to pass the time, she puts little white and blue flowers amidst the dozens of little braids she makes, enjoying the sweet scent they spread around her as she makes her way through the woods. When she gets bored, she begins to make wreaths of flowers, picking a flower here and there as she walks, and when she's done, she'll give it to a passerby - it doesn't matter if it's an animal or a human, she'll give it to whomever. 

She has no destination. She only has a yearning in her heart.

She asks some of the people about it, and they tell her she has somewhere to be. They do not know where, they only tell her to follow her heart.

And so she does.

The sun never seems to set in this new world, not truly – at night, it dips lower, but never all the way down, and Lexa doesn’t really feel the need to go to sleep. She naps every now and then, sleeps on soft mosses and on sunny meadows, amidst butterflies and flowers, and she is happy.

She is missing something, but she is happy.

One day, she comes to a bigger river, one which she cannot cross on her own. There is a ferry, and when it comes across the water, Lexa’s breath hitches in her throat when she recognizes who’s running it.

It’s Costia, the love she had before she was aware of Clarke, the one she should’ve been better to – the one she failed.

She apologizes.

Costia only smiles, and tells her she understands.

She takes one of the flowers from Lexa’s hair as payment, and gives her cheek a gentle, chaste kiss before waving her off.

 

* * *

 

Clarke, too, is in this new world.

She awakes at the shore of a sparkling blue sea, still drenched as though she's only just been swimming. Beside her there's a pile of clothes, and she dresses herself in them, a pale blue silken shirt and soft brown leggings. There are sandals, too, but she does not wear them, not yet – she loves the feel of the white sand beneath her toes, and relishes the freedom she had.

Her hair she lets be free, flowing in the brisk sea wind, and for a while, she spends her time on the beach, swimming and throwing rocks and laughing to herself.

But there's a nagging feeling in her gut, one which she can't ignore, and so, after some time simply resting, she puts on her sandals and begins following her heart.

She gets lost twice, or so she thinks she does, and grows a little frustrated. The world is so strange, there's no rush, no worry – none of those who she come across know the time, it seems as though time is of no issue at all.

The sun is gentle and ever-warm, and the fields and meadows and valleys she crossed are all more beautiful than the last. There are people there, too, smiling faces and kind waves, but she does not stop. They understand. She has someone to find, they all know what it's like, and they offer anything she needed to aid her in her search.

Clarke's sleeping next to a creek when a gentle hand touches her shoulder and rouses her.

For a brief moment, she thinks it's Lexa.

It isn't, no – but it is certainly someone she missed dearly.

She lets out a cry and throws herself into her father’s arms, and he catches her, and hugs her so tight she's sure she’d never felt so safe.

He's alright, and he was happy she is, too.

He shows her where he lives, in a little cottage at the edge of the forest, with a little farm and a horse and a cow named Buttercup. They have dinner, and talk and laugh, and Clarke is so happy she almost forgets about the nagging feeling in her gut. She stays the next day, but by the third day, the nagging feeling has grown so great she's unable to ignore it any longer.

She says goodbye to her father, promises she’ll be back, and sets off again.

She does not need to carry anything. Her food she gets from the numerous fruit trees and villages on her path, strangers more than happy to give her a place to rest or to eat. Her drink she gets from clear streams which run across meadows and through forests, and she is never cold under the gentle soft sun of this new world.

It isn't until she grows so tired she decides to rest that her journey comes to an abrupt end. Clarke is sat on a tree stump beside a little lake, at the foot of a low mountain, taking a breather, when something catches her eye. Across the lake there is a meadow full of bright yellow flowers, small like little droplets of sunshine, shining in the bright daylight. The lake isn't big, only barely bigger than a pond, and Clarke is easily able to see the figure laying amidst the flowers.

She sees the brown hair, the slender figure, and darts to her feet instantly, not even thinking twice before she's running. Hope rushes through her veins and makes her head spin as she runs around the lake, towards the figure, and as she comes nearer, she sees it is indeed her.

Lexa's fast asleep, arms crossed beneath her head, a little smile on her lips, and Clarke almost cries right there and then. She looked so peaceful it was unreal, and she fought the urge to sob, forcing herself to be quiet so as to not rouse her quite yet. She kneels beside her, looks at her, wonders if she dares to touch her - but then she just smiles and leans in to kiss her, unable to quite contain herself. She's found her, and she isn't about to waste time. Somehow she knows Lexa will remember her this time, she knows it in her gut, the same feeling that's been drawing her to her - the feeling, the nagging in her gut, it's grown, it's basically screaming at Clarke to do it, to wake Lexa, to tell her she's there and that she's okay.

And so she kisses her.

Lexa doesn't wake till Clarke’s smiling lips touch her own. She's drawn from her sleep by that touch, by that familiar press of soft lips against her own, and when she realizes she isn't dreaming, her heart leaps to her throat.

“Clarke,” she breathes, her hand sliding around Clarke’s neck and pulling her even closer. “You're here…”

A hot tear falls onto Lexa's cheek, and Clarke whimpers a quiet ‘Lexa’ before kissing her again, drowning her feelings into that kiss, dying to feel more, to just be reminded that Lexa is alright, that Lexa is alive, that there isn't anything left for her to worry about.

“You’re okay,” she smiles when she pulls away. She's laying on her side and over Lexa now, one forearm resting on one side of Lexa’s head while her other hand strokes a hair from her face. “You’re alive.”

“As are you,” Lexa replies. “You- you’re alive.”

She chokes a little on the words, recalling the sight of Clarke – or Elyza, Clarke had been Elyza then – burned, broken, dying, crying in pain as the last drops of life drain from her.

Clarke understands, and kisses her again. “You remember.”

“I do,” Lexa murmurs. “I remember me, and being Alicia, and Elyza, and you-“

“As do I.”

“We’re caught up.”

“That we are,” Clarke laughs. “Took us long enough, didn’t it?”

And then Lexa laughs, and the sight and the sound is so beautiful Clarke's sure she’s never heard anything so wonderful.

They build their home there, at the edge of that meadow and at the shore of that lake. The forest which Lexa grows to love is their backyard, she plans some apple trees in their garden and they bake apple pies whenever there's a harvest. There isn't really a winter in this world, only times of harvest and times of no harvest, with soft cool times of rain and less sunshine in between.

The lake outside their cottage reflects the sky like a mirror, prompting Clarke to dub it like so, as Sky lake. It's full of fish despite being so tiny, and the water's always just cool enough to swim in for a refreshing touch.

Years pass, and they live at the shore of Sky lake, in their little cottage, with a small farm and a few animals, and they’re happy.

Clarke’s father visits them often, as do their friends as more and more of them begin appearing in the new world.

Anya builds her home in the woods, a short distance from their cottage. Lincoln builds a cottage about half a days’ travel from their cottage, at the top of a small mountain, beside a pretty blue lake. He waits there for Octavia, and on the day that she arrives, he is finally happy again.

At some point, Clarke’s mother knocks on their door. Clarke cries from joy, welcomes her, and then takes her to her father’s cottage. The reunion of their family is joyous, and even Lexa is included. She is as much part of the family as Clarke is, that is what Jake tells Abby, and Abby soon grows to understand that. It is impossible not to, not when she can see the love and devotion in both Clarke and Lexa’s eyes when they look at one another.

Little by little, their family grows. Aden finds them one day, still a young boy in need of a home, and they take him in. More of his nightblood siblings, and other lonely children, come to their door, and they welcome them with open arms. They have plenty of love to give to all of them, and more than enough space. When they run out of space, they build another cottage to house all of them.

Years pass, they grow old, and when their time comes, it is at the same time.

They breathe their last breaths in unison, hand in hand, laying in the same bed, surrounded by their family.

They are buried like so, side by side, at the edge of that meadow, and those same yellow flowers bloom over their graves not a few weeks later.

 

* * *

 

The next time Clarke wakes, she's a young girl again. Seven, little, the whole world ahead of her, her name is Chloe Miller. She likes art and hates this one boy in her class called Jason, her favorite food is mac&cheese and she loves Spongebob, and she can’t really recall all the details of her past life. She can remember there was someone very important to her, someone with brown hair and pretty green eyes. Whenever she thinks of her, she gets happy, and smiles, but that’s as far as it goes.

One day, when she’s in the second grade, a new family moves next door. The mother has brown hair and a shining smile, and there’s no dad, just a daughter Chloe’s age.

Chloe doesn’t see her till the next day. She’s playing out on the lawn when her ball flies over the hedge, and she goes over to get it back.

The girl has brown hair, braided into two even braids and tied with yellow little bows, and the prettiest green eyes Chloe – Clarke - has ever seen. She smiles shyly, sets down her jumping rope, and introduces herself.

“I’m Riley.”

“I’m Chloe," Clarke says, and smiles.

“Come look, Chloe,” Riley says.

Chloe does so, and follows Riley to a corner of the garden. Riley points at a patch of bright yellow flowers, growing beside a little puddle. “Aren’t they pretty?”

Chloe smiles and picks one, and hands it to Riley. “We could make flower crowns.”

“I don’t know how.”

Chloe just smiles again and picks up a flower, handing it to Riley. “Don't worry, I’ll teach you.”

**Author's Note:**

> gimme kudos if you cried  
> or if you just liked it, and don't forget to comment too, please :)  
> lexa is so gay and clarke deserves all the happiness in the world so i gave them another happy ending that keeps repeating itself because it's beautiful


End file.
